Fallout 4 A Wonderful Wasteland
by CODED 2557
Summary: In a world of nuclear destruction, with three sole survivors, will they be able to solve the problems each one holds as they gain new ones in the dangerous world of the Commonwealth?


With quiet breaths and quick feet, Frost crept around the camp of raiders that drank away their sorrows. Being cautious, Frost was careful to not step on any branches or minefields that litter the ground. Latter left a sickly muse deep in the back of Frost's mind. Such a dangerous world, to where now she can say she's used to it.

Slowly pushing the branches that pricked at her showing skin, she stepped slowly over the uneven terrain.

Her index finger twitched on the trigger of her gun, becoming anxious with the several possible outcomes, each one ending with a body count. Some large, some small.

The snow crunching under her booted feet was a curse, being louder than likable. And the missing light of the sun that has set almost an hour ago is making a branch more likely to be crushed on. Or a mine. Either one, she'll end up dead.

Counting the raiders that sat in their camp made of wood that rest in the middle of a destroyed city was easy. Each one was making a ruckus over their beers and drinks, it was a shocker that none of them were already dead. Finishing the count, it ended up 8 total.

Checking her pistol, she realized she had enough to take them all down with the 20 rounds she had left. But it may not last her enough inside. But the sudden change of plans for a rescue mission didn't give much time to prepare.

Kneeling there in the bushes, she looked at the raider camp that rested between the tall buildings of a lost city. All the structures they made out of wood and random supplies. Blood was splattered against bits of the walls and ground, which made Frost wonder just how many people did they kill. The camp was set up next to the broken bridge, so it was understandable.

She could tell how many they killed by just looking at the bodies that hung from chains and ropes. Some were pierced onto a wooden pole. And then some had their heads clean off, and poked onto a wooden pole. She stared at the expressions that were forced onto their dead corpse. Or what was left of it, that is.

Finally running out of dead bushes that were at the crossing of the open down into the streets of the destroyed city. Frost made a short and quick tug in roll, ending up sliding against one of the stone walls of a building. She could feel the cold press against her back like it were ice somehow burning its way through her thin coat and blue suit.

She quickly moved through the built structures created by the raiders, most of it out of wood. She was careful to not stumble upon any turrets on the way through the maze of creations.

Frost was quick and nip, as she transversed through the openings. It was like she was dancing away from the raiders, following rhythms and patterns in their routine.

The warm fire that rested in the middle of their fort made her wish she could just take a seat and enjoy some coffee. Saddest thing about that is, the Commonwealth doesn't make coffee anymore.

Waiting for two of the raiders to pass a corridor, Frost quickly paced where they came from, now being back to back. She was sure to check her behind every now and then, just to be sure none decided to do their job correctly in patrolling.

Seeing the wooden door, with its white paint peeling off, she crouched low to the ground, and slowly turned the knob. She hissed, feeling the cold against her fragile fingers.

She was weary, checking her back almost every three seconds. The campfire was just about a dozen feet or more behind her, with chairs resting around it, filled with raiders drinking and dancing. Getting drunk off their rear.

The only thing protecting her from being spotted was the small wooden board that was propped up. It didn't do much covering at all, though, as it just barely hid her when she kneeled on the ground.

The golden door knob was freezing as she wrapped her hand around it. It gave Frost a momentary reminder to get herself a pair of gloves for the harsh winter that came sauntering about into the Commonwealth not even a month ago.

Turning the knob, and slowly opening the door, being discreet to not create any noise in the process, Frost quickly moved inside, gently closing the door behind her.

Not being able to see anything in the darkness, she pulled out a flashlight from her bag wrapped around her and clicked the button. Yellow light lit its way. The inside was like any other building in the ruins of Boston. Holes in walls and ceilings, furniture cluttered everywhere, messes scattering across the floor. A tinge of OCD pinged in Frost for a brief moment, till she reminded herself of her mission.

She found it amusing, thinking about how she has to save her friend twice now.

Frost slowly stood up, not hearing single soul around. But she knew better to still be cautious. One wrong move, and next thing she'll know, she might end up being one of the bodies hanging on a pole for 'decoration.'

Adjusting the collar of her black coat, Frost raised her exposed hand over her hat, fixing it to its right place on her blonde hair, pulled into a loose bun. She brushed the extra strands that happened to fall in her line of sight.

Frost slowly walked through the corridors and rooms. She was sure to not step on any of the messes that laid about and was sure to disable any traps of the horrible place.

Though she did find new creative traps. Now there was the stuffed monkey who had a grenade in it. Bear traps. Some mines. Tripwires, of course, was on the list as well. Though she wasn't expecting to find one attached to a fat man that hid in the upper corner of a room. Not subtle, just… terrifying.

She stared at it for a few moments, standing in the room as to what she assumed was a lab. White tiles, white tables. Lab equipment of beakers, cylinders, test tubes, measurement tools, computers, and more.

But she was more curious about the fat man. That weapon was expensive, and hard to come across. So who can have the nerve to leave it up as a trap than just carry it around with them?

Then the fought that a fat man laying around just like that, then who knows what kind of weapons and ammunition they can have on them if they can have a powerful weapon such as that to be considered a wall decoration.

Frost shuddered, as she reminded herself of what she could be in for. Trouble could be around any corner. She ought to be sharp if she wants to get out of there alive.

Travelling around the building, now going down floors, Frost slowly got more and more curious. There was no one inside, or as far as she went. Which was a pretty hefty amount. She probably passed more than a few floors, and no one was around. Just traps, empty rooms, and possibly offensive loot.

Only thing she found was ammo for a 10mm, which she didn't even have on hand. Though it did bring memories of leaving that frozen vault.

Then there was a teddy bear, which she gladly took and placed it in her bag. Frost would never admit she was still in a stuffed animal faze, but she usually just ended up giving them to the kids. Mostly the ones at her settlements or the school down in Diamond City. But every time the parting was such sweet sorrow.

Thinking back to Diamond City made her eager to head back home. Not so much back to the grind of detective work, but back to her home turf. The smell of smoke and tobacco in the office, and even at Home Plate. The papers scattered of cases just waiting to be solved. The comfort of a wall to protect her.

Frost made a stiff puff out of her nose at the thought.

From there she heard the news of the kidnapping of her friend, and she went right to the case. Travelling all around the Commonwealth to find him, searching every corner for clues. She wouldn't lie and say she had a good nights rest because she didn't. Going around for miles on end without sleeping for the past 52 wasn't exactly the best of things to do. And she knew that. You can't break yourself down to find something, but her tenacious behavior always got the better of her.

Always.

After awhile of searching, and finally getting a fortuitous lead, it leads her to the back roads of Boston. The trek had been longer than she would have liked, but she continued on meanwhile she could hear gunfire through the streets. And her tired eyes were getting the best of her.

It was tempting when she saw a red couch. Not the most comfortable place in the world, easily told by the holes and rips in it, and a single cushion missing. But her tired eyes wished for it. Perhaps catching a few Zs wouldn't be so bad.

Frost smacked herself. Mentally, and physically. The stinging in her cheek made a sudden rush of blood go through her. She wasn't fully awake, but it helped.

It was kinda humorous to her. If someone was watching, they might think she's crazy for staring at a couch for a few minutes in la la land, and then smacking herself across the face. That, or maybe she was truly crazy.

The couch reminded her of home once she left it be. She had one at Home Plate. One her group of friends would hang out every now and then. Though one of missing. And it was her mission to get her partner back. If she lost someone else in this sickly world, then she would declare that it could officially bite her ass.

Brushing her delegate fingers on a cold surface of a metal desk, she felt the dust that collected over time cling to her fingers. She flickered it off, glaring at the desk like it was her adversary.

No one's been down there, or at least for long. She came to the conclusion that it was staged a long time ago. That crossed off the thought of the latest events that happened in her life that might make someone want to draw malice towards her. No, no. This hate was more longing, made overtime. It had a motivate. It was well planned. Most traps would have fooled a simple survivor.

Frost snickered. She wasn't simple.

That just showed the kidnapper was cocky, possibly patronizing too. But then that made more dots in her head cross as to who the kidnapper was. They must be smart, seeing these traps were more sophisticated. Yet arbitrary at the same time. Which meant it took more time, more thinking, showing patience. The only thing scary than a ragged man is one that knew what he was doing.

Most people around the Commonwealth would just go in and try and kill anything. But this. This was more planned. Though it was narrowing down the list of possible suspects, none came to mind on who.

New apprehensive surge coursed through her as she understood more of the dire situation. Staying low to the ground, she stayed quiet. She was tenacious of leaving, and she knew she was going to get out, with her partner right beside her.

Checking the barrel of her pistol on more time, she made sure it wouldn't jam like it normally does at the most convenient times. She snickered when the thought of the time she had to tango with a Deathclaw. Scary creatures, them.

She felt at her side as she remembered the other weapon she brought, her lucky revolutionary sword. Sword play was an odd talent for her, she would admit. And it may look weird as it dangled from her belt, but it ended up being very useful.

Stairs greeted her once again, and she made easy steps. Slowly, but surely, she made her way down, being sure to not step on the tripwire that connected to a pin of a grenade.

She kept her fingers just grazing on the railing, no being the 9th floor she checked, she aimed the flashlight ahead of her meanwhile her pistol was holstered. Aiming the light downwards met no end. Just showed what a few steps were in front of her. However, she felt the even ground of the next floor, and she pulled her pistol out once again.

Once making it to the bottom of the steps, now being the 9th floor she checked, she moved to the doorway. The wooden door of rotten wood was missing the top half of it, with the handle still attached to make the door still functional.

Peeking over the closed door, she decided to lean on the wall, slanting over, twisting her neck in an uncomfortable way to see a section of the room. It wasn't like the other floors, seeming more darker, more destroyed. The ominous room setting flashing warning signs across her brain.

She felt uneasy, staring inside the room. Aiming her flashlight inside, the items inside looked more destroyed, more broken. Like it was intentional. The ceiling above was broken, having it incline inside, meanwhile, the floor itself was missing boards, and she could see nothing under. It looked very unstable. Very perilous. Yet everything was, nowadays.

"It's a trap," Frost stated the obvious to herself, releasing the cold breath she didn't realize she was holding. She watched the white cloud leave her mouth. No heat in the building was nothing new.

She surveyed the room. "They're using him as bait…" She muttered, her British accent showing clearly. "And it's gonna work…"

Frustration could clearly be seen on her sharp features, frowning at the scene. Adjusting her black-rimmed glasses, she spotted no traps. Or at least none that could be seen at the its eye.

Frost straightened her back, taking a deep breath. She had to go in, she knew that. But the thought of death flashing before her eyes yet again scared her. More times than it should.

Throwing the fear out of her thinking, she had to be brave.

Peeking over the broken door, she noticed the other side of the knob had a wire attached to it, connecting to a grenade in the corner of the room on the other side. Simple, yet blindfold. She would have to pull the door open, and then boom.

She rolled her eyes, now slowly throwing a leg over the door, her abnormal tallness helped her (mainly her abnormal legs), she placed her right foot on the other side of the door. The followed the next.

The grenade sat lonely in the corner, and Frost took it in her kindness to disarm it and take it as her own. She may need to stop the adoption though. She already her more than door, a majority in her bag, and two dangling on her belt.

"Flashy." She named it, with a youthful grin. Stuffing the newly adopted grenade to the family in the belt, she walked slowly into the room, being sure to stay close to the walls so she wouldn't fall into the hole in the room.

The darkness so low, with no sunlight able to peek inside just a little bit, Frost raising her flashlight up. The darkness ate away at the yellow light, Frost being mindful of where she stepped. The hall seemed endless, with the flashlight only being able to go so far.

Her pip-boy could be a flashlight, though it lit around her, and had barely any distance. So she took the liberty to spend some caps on an old flashlight.

She noted the doors in the room, leading to more rooms. She peeked inside the first one she came across and looked inside. Just an office space, the cabinets, the desk, the terminal and more broken. Yet the terminal had a dent in that, that was all. She became curious.

Slowly moving across the room, she made her way to the terminal. Leaning forwards, she tapped on the keyboard. Suddenly, the bright light of green burned her eyes from sudden light, and she squinted. Blinking several times to help her blindness, she read the numbers and digits that spilled across the screen.

Frost frowned, noticing the terminal looked more advanced. No, no. The code looked like an expert. But that lead a smirk. She cracked her neck and laced her fingers together to pulled them out, hearing the satisfying cracks.

Oh, she was ready for this.

Thanks to her partner, she knew how to charm any machine. That came out wrong. She knew how to work machines. They also came out wrong.

How Frost flustered herself amazed her. And annoyed her.

Tapping away at the keyboard, reading the words that could be the possible answer, she tapped away at the keyboard. Trying out words, hearing the error sound keep repeating, she almost slammed her fist into the keyboard. Yet after using kind words, she heard the beeping of the correct codes.

Moments passed, and the terminal was open.

"Bingo." She grinned.

New words that could be said as sentences appeared on the screen. Titles of them. But only one. She frowned, not happy with little information it provided. Yet she clicked it anyways.

More words appeared. But no date, no information on the text, just one simple paragraph. She read it.

Frost Leclair Knight. A detective in Diamond City, a general for the Minutemen, a Vault Dweller, oh I could go on.

Frost shifted, feeling uncomfortable by the sudden message just meant for her. And how simple information it had on her.

I'm so happy for us to finally meet. Well, we won't be meeting face to face if you survive long enough. Which I doubt. But I have heard dubious stories about you, and your friends. Though not believe, it's astonishing. But, some outraging. Because it ended up hurting me, and what I have going. So I have come to turns to finally end you. Now I know it's shame, but your actions must come with consequences. And they will be paid.

Frost sneerled. Unsure of what they were talking about, she continued to read. But that didn't stop her from feeling anxious.

I can see it all. I have seen it all. I've been watching you, Ms. Knight. I've seen the way you act, the way you talk, the way you very well think. I see it all. I see you. Right at this very moment, even now, as you casually… read this very sentence.

Frost pushed herself away from the computer, goosebumps moving up her arms. She frowned at the terminal, reading that sentence. It sent chills all over her, she became frigidness. Almost gelidity so.

Taking a step or two away from the terminal, her back facing where she came from, she stood there.

Her first thought was the Institute, having eyes everywhere. But then how could it be? What did he mean by that-?

Her train of thought was stopped as arms wrapped around her neck. Panic flashed through her as she instantly grabbed at the wrist of the predator, dropping the flashlight in the process.

The arms went around her neck, trying to either suffocate her or break her neck. She believed both were working. Her thinking process was slowing down as she was getting little oxygen.

Flustering around, she tried to reach for her pistol, but when she felt around her thigh, there was nothing. She looked down, seeing the flashlight on the ground, shining the pistol in its path of light. She rolled her eyes. "Of course…" She muttered.

Frost could tell her attacker was male, due to his build and height, and his thick arms that wrapped around her. It pushed her side to side, trying to keep her in a state where she was immobile. Trying to keep her feet on the ground, she kept stomping around. Till she decided to stomp on the attacker's feet.

Though it didn't do much, it kept him off his pacing. As he was off his footing, she placed both her feet on the ground, and pushed back. It ended up him being crashed against the wall, and her smacking into his chest.

Feeling his grip loosen, she pushed his arms away and jumped away.

Finally being able to get some air, she turned to try and see her attacker, accidentally kicking the flashlight away with her heel.

Taking in the mass size of the beast that leaned against the wall, Frost would assume he was over 6 feet tall. Frost was 5'9'', but she wasn't close to competing. The man was big, very muscular. But he was buried under layers of clothing she couldn't see. But she saw no hair on his head, and she could see lines across his face. Possibly scars?

Frost was taken out of her thinking process when a sudden swing came forth to her head. Taking a quick lean, she dodged the big fist the size of her head. She took a few steps back as more first came into view.

Frost kept placing her hands under his elbows to drift the punches up her slightly for her to easily dodge, but when one decided to go towards the stomach, she lifted a knee up to block it. With that foot, she ended up placing it on the flashlight she kicked earlier and sent her flying to the floor.

She grunted, the air coming out of her. She was stunned for a second, till she shook her head to look up and see the massive man stand over her.

She saw a glint of steel at his thigh as he moved the weapon of steel over his head. She gasped in shock, pulling her hands up over her face and rolled.

Hitting the side of the desk forced her to stop, and she now faced where she originally was. And a glint of metal landed right where she used to be, where her head was.

She stared with wide eyes at the axe that pierced the ground. It was quickly removed, as she watched it be raised again.

Frost rolled once more, the axe replacing her original spot. Not knowing how easily he could kill her, she focused even more. She rolled once again, hearing the metal hit metal behind her.

But before she moved again, she furrowed her brows, seeing she ran into another desk on the other side of the room. In front of her lay her missing pistol. The flashlight above her head aiming at it perfectly as if a spotlight. She was tempted to grab it, till she heard a grunt above her.

She didn't roll, as she watched the axe fall towards her.

CLANK

But just before it reached her nose, it stopped.

Struggling to keep the sword from breaking under the axe, she heard it over her head. One hand holding the hilt, the other holding the flat side of the blade on the other side, as the axe sat in the middle.

The man cursed, pressing his entire body against the axe. The flat side of the sword hit her nose, but the axe didn't touch her. But her strength was failing her.

Frost took the moment to add her feet to some good use and kicked the man in the stomach once he was literally leaning over her.

He did a double take, almost falling backward as he lifted the axe away. Frost took the moment to quickly move onto her feet, and take a few steps back. She positioned herself into a stance, the sword in front of her as one front was in front of the other, and her back stood straight as one hand was placed behind it.

She'll have to fight without ammo, she decided.

Watching the man yell and charge at her, she swiftly moved out of the way, for the axe to crash into a wall. Frost expeditiously moved the sword to cut the back of the man's thigh. A harsh grunt came out of this throat as he swung his axe around, trying to cut her face.

She took a quick step back, it barely missing her.

She took more steps back as he repeatedly kept swinging the axe back and forth.

"Hold fucking still!" The man yelled.

"A brute, are you? I've met many like you. Ended the same way though." Frost commented with a smirk, taunting the beastly man.

He raised the axe high, and threw it down, only for it to hit the wall again. Frost quickly moved to his elbow, tapping it gently.

"Now, you already used that method and it didn't work the first time." She said sympathetically. Till her swung at her again, making her roll backwards. With one swift roll, she landed, kneeling on the ground, with the flashlight at hand.

She aimed it at the man, his axe raised high in the sky, screaming. Till she quickly turned the light off and on.

He stood there for a brief moment as the light blinded him. He held a forearm to protecting his brown eyes.

"Stop doing that!" He yelled, raising the axe high once again.

She quickly rolled under his legs as he took steps forwards, the axe hitting the ground. She grabbed her pistol as she rolled, and once she kneeled again, she swept her leg around, tripping the man to fall on his side.

Frost quickly made her way towards the door, not before she felt a firm grasp on her shoulder that pulled her back. Her side crashed into the desk, her hands placed on the top of it firmly to keep her from falling as a leg full under itself. The sword clashed into the desk and onto the floor, and the pistol hit the side of the desk, falling out of it's holster and falling onto the desk.

A sharp gasp escaped her when she hit her side, as she fumbled with her hands. As she tried to get up, her arms shakey, firm hands grasped around her neck. It pulled her forwards, and then back onto the desk. The items on it shook, as some cluttered to the ground.

Her arms shot up to the wrist of the attacker, trying to pry them away. Her upper back hit the side of the desk, arching it in a painful way. But she pulled away, and back into the desk. Then again, and again, and again.

Swearing something broke, Frost tried moving her hand around the desk, trying to find anything to protect herself.

The man seemed to notice and raised his axe up. But instead of cutting her up right away, he used the fist that held the hilt and hit her across the face.

A pulsing pain crossed her, as she felt her cheek being slammed over and over again. Her right lens of her glasses ended up breaking, as the frame around it bent out of shape. The glass pricked at her pale freckled skin.

She was getting light-headed, dizziness slowly overcoming her. Her hand was mostly now plopping against the desk, every now and then trying to hit the man, but it was just a weak tap on his arm. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. She couldn't do anything.

Till she felt a thin item slip into her hand. Not caring what it was, she shoved it at the man. She heard a scream come from him, as the pencil point slid into his side.

The arms fell off of her as the man took a step back, and she finally got some air back into her system. Though her thinking was hazy, and just stood there as she dropped the bloody pencil onto the ground, leaning forward as she stared down.

The man took that moment to push her against the desk once again, as an arm laid on top meanwhile her lower figure lay on the ground. Her back arched and in pain, she managed to look up, seeing the axe raised.

Her hand flung back to the desk, in search of something. Once she found something familiar, she raised it once the axe came down.

BANG

BANG

The axe went flying back as sparks of light hit the metal, with the two bullets ricocheting into a wall. The man looked down at her in shock, as she slightly tried to pull herself up. A sly grin appeared on her face, though the blood from her cheek smeared with it.

The man firmly pushed her to the side, her hitting the ground with a sick crunch. She grunted, but now with a more focused head, she quickly grabbed the sword and swung it around, cutting the man in the knee.

He groaned loudly, holding back the scream inside his throat. Frost threw the sword out of the room as she reached for her flashlight, and ran.

Grabbing onto the door knob on the other side, now back in the first room, she threw the door shut. But before the clink came, it flew open pushing her back. The man appeared in full rage and charged at Frost with all his force.

She yelped when she jumped out of the way. She stared in shock at how persistent he was. Honestly really scary.

Lifting a foot, she kicked him in the rear, causing him to stumble forwards. But he shot back and tried to get a hold of her. She took a step back and aimed her gun, flashlight shining right in his face.

Scars and all. He looked like a real brute. Scars all over, wrinkles around, bags under his eyes. He truly looked like a beast.

BANG

Due to her shaky hands, her aim wasn't the best. The bullet flew through his ear, but it didn't stop him from grabbing one of her wrist and the other the gun. It was aimed upwards, as Frost tried to fire, but instead, the bullets met its mark against the ceiling.

Lifting her knee, she kneed him in the stomach, causing him to hunch over. Her hits weren't doing much, but at least it was still considered a factor.

Trying to put her feet at play, she kept stomping at his feet and kicking him, as their arms moved from side to side, trying to take hold of the gun.

"Hey, hey! Stop it!" Frost complained, trying to yank the gun away.

"Let go!" He yelled back.

Frost pulled forward, getting him off his feet, to where she was able to slam him into the wall. But he didn't let go.

The wrist that was being held, she held her flashlight. Aiming it at his face at point blank, she clicked the button over and over again.

He glared, teeth gritted, annoyed at the flashing.

The man pushed her forwards, her almost falling backwards. But now her arms were pulled forwards as were his. They both leaned backwards, trying to get the gun. The uneven amount of weight caused them to shizel, and spin in circles.

Till the man took a step forwards and twisted her wrists. She screamed in pain as she heard a crack. But now they were face to face. Frost didn't have the gun where it normally was, and she couldn't tell what her finger was around.

BANG

Frost gasps, as she watched the lifeless man fall backwards. She stood there a few moments, mouth wide and in shock. She was shaking, her lips trembling. She'd usually have something snarky to say, but she was so close to death. She pulled the trigger, not even knowing where it was aiming. It was a 50/50 shot.

She could have died.

She dropped the gun to the ground, away from her and the man. She threw the flashlight away, not wanting to see the dead man on the ground, with blood forming a puddle.

She knew there would be grim moments to come, but the sudden attack left her on nerve. She couldn't seem to focus as she tried to gather herself together.

Taking an abrupt step forward with a wobbly leg, she forced herself to a stop when she heard a creaking noise.

Not moving, she slowly turned her head to see she was standing at the very edge, where the endless hole was.

She took a deep breath in, uneasily.

"Huh…" She muttered. But that seemed to cause her bad luck, as the wood under her collapsed, only the edge of the thin wood she was standing on.

Now falling, she held her hands out, making the fall abruptly stop. Her arms over the edge, she tried to grab onto anything as wood around her fell. But she was sliding, and sliding fast.

Suddenly sliding quickly, she yelped. Now a single hand was holding onto the very edge, as her thin form dangled above the darkness.

Throwing one arm over, she tried to see if she could grab anything, anything to pull her up. When she felt something firm in her hands, the wood she was dangling on cracked and fell apart.

After seconds on nothing, with Frost closing her eyes, she slowly opened them. She looked down, seeing nothing but darkness. Unsure if she was falling or not, she looked up. She could see her hand stretched up, holding the hilt of the sword that was pierced into the side of the whole.

Frost released a shaky breath, almost a laugh.

She was alive.

And also dangling at an unknown height.

Pulling herself up, she gripped onto the sword and grabbed the edge of the hole. She pulled herself up, still very tired and weak from the assault she just endured. She pulled the sword out from the side once she had a firm grip on the edge.

Throwing the sword up, it clanking on the ground, she swung her arm onto the edge, and slowly pulled herself up. She ended up rolling onto her back once secure on safe ground.

She panted, being very tired. Laying down on the floor, hearing the simple breathes come from her mouth made her want to sleep. She could so use it.

The puddle of blood that pooled against her hand made her return to reality. She slowly sat up, looking at the dead body next to her. She almost felt sorry for him, but bringing her so close to death made her have no mercy whatsoever.

Gently getting up, her legs wobbly under her, she made a few steps forward, heading towards the wall, before her legs gave way. Her side crashed into the wall, as a painful grunt escaped. Leaning her back against the wall, she slowly slid down to where she sat once again.

All she needed was some time to take a little rest, that was all.

Looking around, seeing the flashlight next to her, she gingerly picked it up and aimed it around the room. The dead body was nerve-racking, but she dared not to look at it again. Seeing her pistol and sword so far away, she pouted like a child.

Rummaging through her bag, she hoped to find some sort of medical item. She couldn't remember, all she could think about was the pounding in her head.

Finding nothing, she plopped her hands on her lap.

"Great…" She muttered.

Plucking away the glass from her cheek, feeling the blood and puffiness on her cheek, she hissed. Once all the glass was out, she placed the glasses back on her nose. Only one side had good vision, and it made it disorientating.

Stroking the cut on her arm, she felt the blood flushing out quickly. She wouldn't die of blood loss, but possibly infection. Only again looking inside her bag, she found a water bottle. Flipping the cap off, she slowly poured some onto her wound, pushing away the clothing. The water trickled across her already cold skin, and it made her shudder.

Once it was washed off, she tore some clothing off the dead man's clothing and wrapped it around her upper left arm. Looking at it, the blood already stained a portion of it. But it was better than nothing.

Feeling a little bit better, Frost managed to get up, using the wall as support.

Once up, she rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. Adjusting her coat and brushing off the bits that fell onto her, she placed her hand on her head, feeling her… hair?

Frost glared around, aiming her flashlight. "Where's… my hat…?" She asked slowly, now annoyed at the setback.

Must have fallen off, she thought. She frowned, now thinking it might have fallen into the pit of nothingness.

She aimed the flashlight once again around the room, seeing more doors. With that entire scene from one door, she wondered where the others lead.

The sound of struggle and the gunshot would have definitely caught someone's attention. She would need to be quick if she wants to get around without being noticed.

Stepping over the body, she collected her things. She placed her pistol back in its holster, and the sword sheathed.

Once collected, she looked at the door that held the terminal and dared not look back in there. She shuddered for a second, too frightened and just wanting to head back home.

But the hole in the ground suddenly spiked her interest. She was smart enough to not stand next to the edge, so she leaned over, peeking the flashlight over it. Still, the darkness ate the yellow light. But now she was curious how far it goes.

Not sure what to drop, she looked at bits of chunked wood. She picked up a piece, one bigger than her palm, and she held it up over the edge. After a brief moment, she let go.

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi-"

The breaking of wood could be heard at the bottom. She lifted her brows up, shock appearing on her face.

"19.6 meters… damn…" She muttered. She knew could possibly survive that is she was lucky, but the injured she would have gained. She made a long whistle, staring down into the darkness.

Till something stared back.

Frost was taken aback, a quick gasp created. She turned off her flashlight, trying to see the two yellow dots down below. She furrowed her brows, trying to see through her broken glasses. She could see the two yellow obstacles and had taken a deep breath.

Is that?

The groan of a door caught Frost's attention, but before she could act, she felt a forceful hit to the back of her head, and she was out like a light.

-

Author's Note:  
Agh, this took way too long for me to make. Welp. This is the start of A Wonderful Wasteland. Only a teaser for the first chapter, though. So eh. I'm not entirely sure when the full chapter will be released, and what day they will be posted weekly. But I'll still working on important points on this, so just bare with me here.  
I'm not really happy with how this turned out, but I might change it up when the first chapter comes out. But until then, I hope you enjoy.  
(Planning on adding art)


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